


Marking it Down to Learning

by ClaraxBarton, Miss_Murdered



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Background Character Death, Fluff, Multi, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Murdered/pseuds/Miss_Murdered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trowa Barton and Duo Maxwell are from completely different worlds and barely know each other. But when their respective best friends, Quatre and Relena, die tragically they are given guardianship of their six week old daughter. Together they must learn to care for the little girl entrusted to them and learn to like each other. 2x3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago Clara and I discussed working together collaboratively on some fics and we planned on starting an epic 1x2x3… but this little idea ended up demanding to be written so this is our first joint fic! Trowa will be written by me and Duo will be written by Clara. We're going to try and update weekly but as both of us have so many fics we're working on and RL we'll see how we go. Anyway, enjoy! – Miss M  
> And obvs we own nothin'

As the yellow cab wound its way through the busy mid-morning Chicago streets, Trowa idly looked out of the window at the looming skyscrapers and thought about all the other times he'd met Duo Maxwell.

The first time had been the engagement party. Quatre and Relena's. Quatre Raberba Winner had been Trowa's best friend through college, a fellow Economics student and they had ended up roommates by serendipity. At first things had been rocky as Trowa had stupidly tried to kiss the cute blond guy, assuming his overly handsy-ness was a sign of sexual interest but soon Trowa learnt Quatre was straight and they resolved the one time awkward encounter. They always joked about it. Or they had.

Quatre had come from a world of privilege compared to Trowa's scholarship but that never mattered. As despite the fact Quatre was wealthy – wealthy beyond Trowa's wildest dreams he never flaunted it, never was flashy and their friendship was one that led him into encounters with Duo Maxwell.

Of course, Quatre was going to marry some debutant, some society girl, some politician's daughter and that daughter was Relena Darlian. And she came with a best friend – a best friend who ran promotion for clubs, who wore tight suits and even tighter shirts with buttons undone.

Trowa had met Duo at that engagement party and rolled his eyes in disgust as he'd brought his plus one – a guy with tanned skin and blue eyes who he'd proceeded to make out with most of the night and then slinked off with only to return ten minutes later looking considerably more dishevelled. A few of Quatre's sisters had teased him – teased Trowa about being more "out" than he was, more like Duo Maxwell but while Trowa was quite happy for anyone to know he sucked dick, he didn't go around making it obvious.

The second time he met Duo had been the wedding – the wedding of the damn century and Trowa had been thrust into it. Quatre had taken over his family business in the aftermath of his father's death and the whole "young billionaire" and the "society girl" wedding was all over the news for weeks. He'd been best man, having to deliver a speech, one that was without humour as the only funny stories he could think of regarding him and Quatre were their own embarrassing kiss and the time when Quatre walked in when he was banging some dude. It wasn't appropriate. So instead, he told one story about Quatre being locked out of a hotel room in his boxer briefs and left it at that.

Duo upstaged him. Always was. As Duo had an important role, one that had put them in every picture together, made them sit at the same table during the meal. As Quatre had a  _lot_ of sisters. Trowa barely remembered half of them and due to that Relena had been given a tricky choice regarding bridesmaids and the maid of honour. Instead of making the difficult choice of which of Quatre's sisters should be included in the bridal party and which shouldn't, Relena opted for choosing Duo as her "maid of honour" or "man of honour" or whatever he wanted to call himself.

So instead of upsetting any bridesmaids, Relena unconventionally picked her best friend. Who had then delivered some stories that had made Relena blush after Trowa's own best man speech and made all the guests laugh. Including Trowa. Even though he'd decided he didn't like him.

Trowa remembered a lot about the wedding, the way Quatre looked so in love when Relena walked down the aisle, the smell of the lilies, the taste of expensive wine and the dancing into the night. But most of all he still remembered how Duo had come alone, no plus one this time, and how they'd ended up jerking each other off in a coat closet, kissing, rutting together, coming together and returning to the wedding after cleaning up. And after that, Trowa had only seen him one more time. A time when any mention of "hey, remember when you jerked me off?" was entirely inappropriate.

At the Christening of Olivia Katharine Darlian-Winner. When they were both called, when they were both announced as godparents three weeks after her birth, both of them pledging to care for this small bundle of white lace and silk alongside Iria, Quatre's sister and VP of his company.

And after, at the party at the palatial Winner home, Trowa had held Olivia, clutching her in his arms, feeling her tiny fingers wrap around his little finger, feeling her scant precious weight and cooing soothingly to her. Until Duo had demanded to have a hold of his "godkid" calling her "Liv" already which irked Trowa and he'd been forced to spend most of the rest of the party talking to Quatre, reminiscing about how their old lives were truly over now one of them had a child.

"Are you happy?" Quatre had asked Trowa.

As Trowa didn't have someone – he had his job teaching Economics and his students but he didn't have someone. And he would – one day, but right now he was happy in his own way.

"Yeah… you?"

"The happiest a guy could be," Quatre had answered with the enthusiasm and delirium of someone who had not slept enough.

"Fatherhood suits you."

Fatherhood did. Or it had. And Trowa stopped thinking about those final conversations he'd had with his best friend as he already felt emotional and raw having only stepped off a plane a few hours ago.

Trowa had received two calls that made his stomach sink within the last twenty-four hours. The first was his sister telling him to turn on the news. He was at a conference on economic stability in the Middle East in the mid-west and he'd turned on the television in his chain hotel room to see the news running across the bottom of the screen.

**QUATRE RABERA WINNER AND RELENA DARLIAN WINNER CONFIRMED DEAD.**

He didn't quite remember anything else after that, knew he'd ended up curled up on the floor at the end of his hotel bed, listening to the reports about the plane crash, about them being dead. The only reassuring part, if it was scant, was that Olivia had been with Iria. She wasn't dead.

The second call he'd received was summons from a lawyer demanding his presence at a will reading at Khushrenada and Partners. When he'd asked why and who was attending he'd been informed it would be himself and Duo Maxwell and that had puzzled him further. But he'd had no time to think. Only booked his flight, boarded his plane and travelled back to the city, as he was now, in the back of a cab.

When the cab pulled up, Trowa felt a dead weight in his stomach and he over-tipped the driver as he hadn't spoken a word since the airport. Which was just what Trowa needed. He didn't have it in him for conversation, tired, grief-stricken, running on coffee and sugary donuts.

Grabbing his carry-on bag, not having time to get home, he walked into the lobby to find the office he needed. The building was large and impressive, glass and chrome and marble and Trowa tried not to be awed by it. He was a simple college professor. And this was the world of the ivory castle. Quatre's world. Quatre's lawyer.

He went to the reception, confirmed his name as Dr. Barton and then was directed towards the elevator, pushing the button to the thirteenth floor and exiting there, walking along a corridor to find a waiting area and a desk of what must've been Khushrenada's secretary. When he arrived at the waiting area he saw him.

Duo Maxwell.

He was sat, hunched over, his head in his hands and Trowa could see the exhaustion and grief in his posture as he approached. He saw the braid, that distinctive hair, fall down to the floor, he saw some grey and black t-shirt, some scruffy jeans and he guessed like him, Duo didn't care how he looked. Not now.

"You look like hell," Trowa said and Duo looked up then, getting to his feet with the smallest of smiles.

Looking at his face, he saw stubble and red rimmed eyes and Trowa didn't think of anything of it when they met for a hug. Maybe he would've before… but when he had Duo in his arms, he just let his overnight back fall to the floor and hugged back as Duo  _knew_ what this felt like.

"I can't believe they're gone," Duo said into Trowa's shirt.

Neither could Trowa. It had been only a few weeks since the Christening and they'd been happy. A family. So damn perfect and now…

"I mean, think about Liv, Tro'."

That's what Trowa had been thinking about. Olivia. Not growing up with a mother who doted on her. Not growing up with the father who would've treated her like a Princess and Trowa swallowed something in his throat. She'd looked like them too – well as much as a three week year old could when they were still crinkly from being born, still a little squished – but her eyes were so blue and her skin was fair and her hair was blond. She was  _theirs_ so completely that it was hard to imagine her without them.

"I know."

With that, the two men parted and Duo looked away, taking a moment to rub at his eyes for some reason. A reason Trowa understood.

"You know what this is about?" Duo asked.

Trowa shrugged. "Just told me I was needed for this hearing of the Will. I expected some family."

"Me too."

It seemed they both as in the dark, not sure why they were here and instead of taking a seat, Trowa stuffed his hands in the pocket of his dark trousers and paced the small waiting area, ignoring the obnoxious "modern" art and the "lifestyle" magazines on the table.

After what seemed like an eternity, the clip clop of heels was heard and a woman with a severe bun and glasses approached.

"Mr. Khushrenada is ready for you now."

Duo got back to his feet as the woman walked off and he gave Trowa a light shoulder bump.

"Guess we see what this is about, right?"

"Yeah," Trowa answered.

Trowa wasn't sure why, why the two of them, why straight away after their deaths but Trowa didn't have time to speculate – he could only follow the woman and Duo, ready to hear what his best friend wanted of him after death.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Life wasn't fucking fair.

Not exactly a lesson Duo Maxwell needed repeating. But hey, it had been a solid few months since anything terrible had happened to him - clearly fate felt the need to completely fuck him over.

It was selfish, that thought, and maybe even shallow. But for Duo, drowning in grief and anger, shallow was about as deep as he was willing to get right now.

Life wasn't fucking fair and it hadn't been fucking easy, either. It should have been, probably. Duo had been born into the kind of high-society family that made you think of American royalty and sure, money was great, but it came with a hell of a lot of expectations, and Duo wasn't good at meeting expectations. Not from the very start.

He'd been kicked out of fancy boarding schools, out of prep schools and finally a military academy and then he'd been kicked out of his storybook home, disowned by his storybook family when they found him blowing the gardener's son and Relena Darlian had more or less adopted him.

More, really. Her father pulled strings and got Duo into her elite school and he finished high school and they shared an apartment together when she moved to New York to try modeling and Duo tried to sleep with as many models as he could.

And then she had met Quatre Winner, or met him again, to be more accurate, because they had both known him as kids - the prissy blond boy who always got picked on and had a smile like the sun - and she moved back to Chicago, since the future Mrs. Winner was  _not_  a model and absolutely did not stay up until sunrise most nights, drifting from party to party until she couldn't stand up in her five inch Miu Miu heels anymore. No, the future Mrs. Winner used some of Daddy's money to start a charity in Chicago for women just out of prison looking to make something of their lives.

It should have been a joke. Relena should have slept in bed until noon while an assistant did all of the work and then spent her nights on Quatre Winner's arm at social events, drinking champagne and smiling and thinking only about what she would wear tomorrow.

But despite Relena's love of fashion, despite the fact that she enjoyed parties, she was more than that. She was damned good person and wanted the best for everyone around her, whether she loved them or not. And if she loved you, she didn't just want the best for you, she shoved it down your throat.

So Duo moved back to Chicago too, used Relena's connections to get an in with the handful of high end night clubs Chicago had to offer and he became a club promoter. It wasn't the "best for him" that Relena had in mind - no, that was blind date after blind date with eligible gay bachelors that Duo had nothing in common with - but it was something Duo could do.

He could charm the pants off of anyone, so Relena had always said, and so Duo had always found to be true, and he used that one marketable skill of his to great success.

It wasn't Relena's kind of success - it wasn't helping reformed convicts get jobs or home loans - it sure as hell wasn't his family's kind of success. But it was Duo's kind. It was the kind that meant he made his own way in the world, made his own rules and his own living and meant he had a home, an apartment near the water that was all renovated and industrial, with a big ass bed that was hardly ever empty unless Duo wanted it to be and he had money. Had a bank account and a car and hell, he was saving towards a club of his own and he was almost there. He had investors on the line and things were looking up.

Maybe he didn't have someone special to share it with - unless you counted Hilde Scheibeker, his partner in crime and only twice partner in bed. But maybe that was okay too. Maybe having just this, just for him, was okay.

It was okay, because he still had Relena. Still had the amazing woman who kissed him on the lips, even with Quatre looking on, who called him her love and demanded his presence at all the important events in her life. Who called him up the morning after Quatre finally proposed and told him all about it. Who dragged him along for dress shopping and cake shopping and making a gift registry and lunches with Quatre's six thousand sisters. Who danced with him at her engagement party, teasing him about how he smelled like his date's cologne and resting her head on his shoulder and telling him that she wanted this for him, this moment, this future. Who clapped her hands over her face and shook her head and blushed the same color as the pink champagne in her glass when Duo delivered his toast at her wedding, confining himself to his ten favorite Relena stories, leaving off the dozens and dozens of others he wanted to tell, wanted to share because this girl - this girl was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wanted to make damn sure Quatre felt the same way. Who called him and told him she was pregnant and it was his job to make sure she didn't get fat. Who introduced him to the most perfect girl in the world, little Liv, the red faced, bawling, spitting image of Relena and Quatre.

But life wasn't fucking fair.

He'd been in bed when Hilde called and told him to turn on the news. He'd been sucking off Heero Yuy, his on again, mostly off again boyfriend and Heero had tugged on his hair a little impatiently when Duo reached for the phone. But Hilde didn't call often, she shared Duo's preference for texting and face to face conversations and if she was calling him in the middle of the night it was important, some disaster at a club or -

Or Relena Darlian dead.

Heero had said something, mumbled something about her flirting with him at her own engagement party and that had put him instantly back into the "off again" category of Duo's brain because  _fuck him_. Heero was gorgeous and Relena probably would have flirted with him, probably would have thrown herself at him full force back when they lived in New York City and they placed bets on which of them would take home the hottest guy. But that was before. Before Relena had Quatre and she sure as fuck hadn't been flirting with Heero. She'd been nice, teasing maybe, but not everything was about Heero fucking Yuy and his perfect face.

The next call he received was from Treize Khushrenada. It was only the second call Duo had ever had from the guy, the first one had been before the wedding, when Treize was working on the pre-nup and he had wanted to see if there was any dirt he could dig up on Relena, to tilt things in Quatre's favor if a divorce ever happened, and Duo had done a damn fine job of remembering every foul word he'd ever heard used to describe someone who was as much of an asshole as Treize.

But Treize had stopped Duo's angry tirade dead in his tracks this time, hadn't even let him build up any steam, had just told him he was needed for the reading of the Will, that Relena had wanted him for this, and Duo had felt like all of the oxygen in the room, in the whole fucking world was gone.

Relena had wanted him for this.

And then he was waiting in that damn fancy lobby, with the slick black leather couches that reminded Duo of that shoot Relena had done once, with the weird BDSM flair and the leather pants she had taken home and they had shared, had taken turns wearing when they went out clubbing and fuck. He still had those. He doubted either of them could fit in them now. He was still fit, still in great shape. But he wasn't eighteen anymore. And Relena -

Fuck. Relena was dead.

He refused to cry again. He'd done that yesterday. Spent the entire day sitting on the concrete floor of his apartment drinking the bottle of Vodka he and Relena had planned on saving for her thirtieth birthday next year.

It had been such an effort to get dressed that morning, to put on clothes that didn't make him think of Relena. He knew he should make an attempt at looking decent - it was a reading of her Will. He should probably have a suit on. But she'd been his shopping buddy, his fellow clotheshorse and every damn thing in his fucking closet felt like a memory of her. So in the end he'd put on the jeans and t-shirt that Heero had left, at some point over the last year or so, and it was good. Because the jeans were a little big and even though the t-shirt was well washed, faded cotton it scratched against his skin and it didn't make him think of Relena.

He waited for hours, probably only half an hour, but it felt like an eternity in that cold, sterile world and he wondered how Quatre did it every day. How he got out of his bed with Relena, how he kissed her goodbye - and she probably smiled at him, even half asleep because she used to do that with Duo, whenever he left for his job as a bike messenger while she still slept - how he kissed Liv and listened to her coo or probably cry and just left them for  _this_  unfeeling world.

Guess he didn't, not anymore. Not now that he was dead.

Maybe he should have been surprised to see Trowa Barton there, or maybe it should have clued him in to what would happen next, but when the tall man walked into his line of sight, looking like shit in his rumpled brown suit, his overnight bag clutched in his hand like a lifeline, all Duo could think was  _shit_.

He didn't know Trowa well at all. Could count on one hand the number of times they had met and still have fingers to spare, and sure, one of those times had been a quick and not entirely satisfying sexual encounter in a fucking coat check, but he didn't know him.

But Quatre had been Trowa's Relena.

Hugging Trowa was probably the only thing that had felt real in the past two days. The solid warmth of him. The firmness of his body. The slightly stale smell of his clothes. It was real and that was good. It was good, but it also fucking hurt, and Duo was equal parts bereft and relieved when they released each other.

He probably should have known - hell, he was the one who asked about Liv, who reminded Trowa that like them, she was alone now - had lost those two glittering people who were her parents.

But he didn't know. Didn't really think about it or connect the dots until Treize Khushrenada had them sit down in the seats across from him, until Duo recognized the blonde woman standing by the window, her arms crossed and her face drawn. Iria, he was pretty sure - the sister Relena liked the most.

Until Treize opened up with the words that hit Duo almost as hard as Hilde's phone call had.

"Quatre and Relena made a provision in their Will for the two of you to share joint custody of Olivia."

Duo felt fairly confident that a full minute, maybe even two, passed before either he or Trowa were able to process those words. And even then -

"What?" Trowa asked, his voice dry and raw, Duo suspected, from alcohol and crying and it would have been funny, in  _any_  other situation to see the unflappable Trowa Barton's green eyes so wide and his jaw so slack.

Iria stepped forward.

"They wanted you two to raise her, if anything ever happened to them. It - it was something they both wanted, very much."

" _Why_?" Duo had to ask, and he felt Trowa's eyes on him at that question. " _Us_?" He gestured between them. Duo, the club promoter and party boy who had told a story about Relena being drunk off her ass and groping Leonardo di Caprio as part of his toast at her wedding. Trowa, the stick up his ass, barely out academic who - what? counted shit for fun?

Iria nodded.

"Why not you?" Trowa asked, directing his question at Iria. And fuck. Why  _not_  Iria? She had been named as a god parent too, and she was Liv's Aunt.

"Because I am now the CEO of Winner Inc. Because my brother spent sixty hours a week at this job and when I was his vice president  _I_ spent sixty hours a week at this job and now I have to do both of our jobs until something can be figured out. I do not have the time or the ability to care for Olivia. And because my brother's wish was for his daughter to have a family who did have the time and ability and who loved her and he thought that was the two of you."

 


	3. Chapter 3

It felt like a dream. But then when Trowa dreamt it tended to be about dying in the zombie apocalypse or walking naked in front of his class. Not something of this magnitude. Not that he - and Duo - were suddenly expected to care for a child.

Trowa had never wanted children. He had no dislike of them just... His life was very singular. Work. Students. Research. Quatre had mocked him for it but Trowa was happy. And a child was not in his life plans. It was devastating enough that Quatre was dead but the reverberations of the revelation were still ringing in his head. They were expected to care for Olivia… Trowa could barely comprehend it.

Iria was talking and Trowa glanced to see Duo’s expression with the same kind of dumbfounded shock that his own must have. As it was true – Iria was as much Winner Inc. as Quatre was. And Quatre had devoted so much of his life to it feeling the unimaginable pressure of stepping into his father’s shadow, walking in Zayeed Winner’s shoes and Trowa had known that it had been hard. Iria had done the same – working alongside her brother and she was the obvious successor. Trowa understood that. He still just couldn’t understand why Olivia was being left in his care. No not only Trowa’s. His and Duo’s care.

He was tempted to walk out of the fancy ass office, stop looking at Treize fucking Khushrenada and stagger to the bathroom – throw up, splash water on his face, hell, bang his head against a wall to feel something that felt _real._ Not like this twilight zone he was living in. But all he did was look forward and blink, trying to find something else to say.

“This must be a mistake,” Duo said and Trowa felt he could reiterate that. “This has to be a joke.”

As _them?_ Two guys who barely knew each other? The only common denominator between them was Olivia and though they both loved her and were her godfathers, it didn’t mean they were capable of becoming her guardians. Her surrogate parents.

“It’s no joke, Mr. Maxwell. It was their wishes.”

Duo made a noise that was akin to a chuckle but Trowa could sense the despair in it as the whole weight of this began to crush in on them.

“What happens…” Trowa began and then he coughed, feeling both Duo and Iria’s gaze. “What happens if we don’t…?”

He hated himself for saying it but the smooth lawyer was not shocked, he only shuffled papers. “I imagine Olivia would become a ward of the state until the legal ramifications could be dealt with. Iria – I imagine that some of your sisters would feel they have some entitlement towards custody?”

Trowa made a noise under his breath as he remembered some of Quatre’s sisters. Iria was his closest sister but he had seven other’s and some of them had been problematic to say the least. Trowa could barely remember their names but he remembered that Zayeed had cut one of them off during their time in college and she had appeared begging Quatre for some money and to plead her case to their father. That kind of person – the kind of person who cared more about money than anything else – was not someone Trowa would ever want to look after a child. And Trowa felt ever so slightly manipulated.

“It would end up being a big legal battle,” Trowa said heavily.

“Indeed, Mr. Barton.”

There was a short silence then as Trowa played with a thread on his cargo trousers rather than look at anything else in the office. As he didn’t know _why_ Quatre and Relena had decided this – why they had gone through the effort of adding them to their will but if it was what they wanted… Trowa looked up to see Khushrenada’s eyes darting between the two of them.

“How does this work?” Duo asked, his voice matter-of-fact. “I mean… I don’t live in a kid friendly environment and I guess Mr. Book Worm don’t either.”

“You’ve been left a property – one of the smaller townhouses. I believe you will be familiar with it, Mr. Barton?”

Khushrenada pushed a photograph across the desk and Trowa picked it up, looking at the townhouse. It wasn’t as large as Winner mansion but it was still the sort of property Trowa could only afford in his dreams. A property he remembered from Quatre’s “wild” period – just after his father died and prior to Relena. There had been many drunken nights in that house – and many drunken fumbles with guys Trowa barely remembered.  He handed the photograph to Duo who seemed in the same state of shock.

“There have been… extensive provisions made for Olivia’s welfare. Money set aside for a prestigious pre-school, her private school, her college education… as well as an allowance for her day to day life.”

Trowa nodded as he had guessed that – money was not an issue with Winners. But still the whole thing made his head spin. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs from his eyes and licked at his lips. He felt exhausted, strung out, emotionally fucked and then he thought about her…

Olivia. Tiny, helpless Olivia.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice rougher sounding than he intended, raw with an emotion that he couldn’t place. He remembered her – the small pudgy cheeks, her fingers wrapped around his own little finger, her blue eyes that were so damn Quatre… the small shock of blond hair. And he wanted to see her.

Iria answered. “She’s with Leia.”

He remembered _that_ sister. She hadn’t been as close to Quatre as Iria but still was one of the sisters who had some involvement in Winner Inc. and was therefore someone Quatre would trust with his daughter. But obviously not as much as him.

“I need to see her.”

Khushrenada looked shocked for a moment but then he smoothed his face into the same neutral and slightly sneering appearance.

“Then you are taking guardianship of her?”

Trowa shook his head. “Our friends died, our godchild is parentless and now we are sat in damn lawyer’s office. We shouldn’t be here. We should be with her.”

He knew his voice had cracked as he spoke and he suddenly felt the touch of Duo’s hand on his thigh and Trowa glanced towards him, seeing those bright blue eyes he remembered from the bad sexual encounter and he saw there was some agreement with his anger, with his annoyance at being sat _here_ when Olivia had lost her world.

“I agree with Trowa. We gotta see her… this is all too damn much.”

A conversation started between Khushrenada and Iria about whether this was an issue and Trowa decided he couldn’t listen, getting to his feet and walking towards the bathroom, hating the fact he was stuck in a slick lawyers office and how his world, boring, safe and average had suddenly been turned upside down in so little time.

He didn’t throw up, only walked over to the sinks, ran the water as cold as possible and splashed it on his face. He was unsurprised when Duo joined him within a few minutes, standing at the door to stop anyone else from entering.

“We’re going to see her,” he said, his arms folded across his chest and obviously Trowa looked as bad as he felt as Duo gave up on his guarding of the door and walked towards him. “You okay, man? You look like hell.”

“My best friend died and we’re being asked to be the guardian of their kid. What do you think?”

Duo chuckled, the noise not at all humorous. “I feel you… I don’t know what I feel but fuck… it hurts.”

Trowa saw the look in Duo’s eyes, the way he was trying to hold it together just as he was and he offered small comfort, the touch of hand to shoulder but in this situation they only had each other.

“They’re organising a car,” Duo said, “so we should get back and go see Liv, right?”

Nodding in agreement, they walked out of the bathroom together, Iria informing them her black town car was waiting outside that they could use – she was going to continue her conversations with the lawyer regarding the company and all the other legal ramifications.

As they were about to leave, she gave the smallest smile. “I know this seems… an odd choice but my brother believed this was the best decision for Olivia. And I always agreed with his judgment. His methods may’ve seemed unorthodox but you two might be what she needs.”

It wasn’t exactly comforting and Trowa mumbled something under his breath, barely intelligible words as they made their way to the lobby and the street and the town car.

The journey through the Chicago streets was familiar but eerily unfamiliar. Maybe it was the state of unreality that Trowa found himself in but soon they were at the Winner Mansion on the outskirts of the city and Trowa was swallowing as he remembered the last time he’d been in the house.

At Olivia’s Christening. When he’d talked with Quatre in person for the last time. And that thought was too raw and painful as they pulled up outside the front door, it opening and a tall familiar man stood on the step. Rashid had been an employee of Quatre’s father and arguably more of a parent than his actual father and Trowa was greeted by him warmly, the sad smiles and handshakes shared. They exchanged some meaningless words of grief and sorrow but soon Trowa was following Rashid, Duo by his side, the sound of a baby crying heard as they walked the halls.

Leia was in the sunroom, the dappled light coming through the windows and Olivia was in her arms as she walked the length of the room, cooing and singing to the baby to try and soothe her. It was not working as she seemed to be crying her small heart out as if she _knew._ Trowa didn’t know what babies knew – if they smelt their parents, if they recognised them in the vaguest way but somehow the idea that Olivia was crying for her dead parents was just too damn much. He felt like falling to the floor, he felt like shedding tears until there were no more but instead he watched Duo walk towards Leia.

“She’s been fed, changed and burped… I don’t know why she won’t stop crying!”

Duo was mumbling under his breath and a moment later he held the screaming pink bundle, her small arms flailing as he held her close to his chest, her head over his heart. He rocked her in his arms and walked towards Trowa, her crying starting to abate and when Duo was in front of Trowa, she had stopped crying entirely, only short stuttery breaths coming from her small lips, her cheeks red and eyes sparkling with tears.

“Here’s Trowa… you remember Trowa, Liv?” Duo cooed, his voice soothing and calm.

And Trowa looked down at her as Duo offered to pass her over and he opened his arms, feeling the gentle weight of her small body, the heat of her skin and the soft shaky breaths.

Cradling her close, Trowa walked the length of the sunroom, his eyes closed as pressed his nose to her head, smelling the distinctive smell of “baby” as he took a deep breath. As suddenly, as soon as he held her in his arms, he knew he couldn’t say no to Quatre’s wishes – he’d do what he was asked. What Quatre and Relena wanted. He’d take care of this little girl whatever.

He opened his eyes and saw Duo watching him, his face showing the first trace of a smile he’d seen since they’d met on this awful day, and they shared a look that spoke volumes without words. It was an agreement, a silent one that they would do what they were asked – that they would become Olivia’s guardians no matter how crazy their lives would become. For Relena and Quatre. But mostly for Olivia.


	4. Chapter 4

Marking It Down to Learning

 

Chapter Four

 

Duo vividly remembered the baby shower, the horde of Quatre’s sisters and Relena’s female friends and himself, the lone man present. He remembered walking into a room decorated to in every shade of pink. And of course everything was pink - not because Relena was expecting a girl, but because it was _Relena._ And of course Duo was the only guy there, not because he was gay, but because he was Relena’s.

She said that to him often, told him that only he and Quatre really knew her, really loved her for more than her social position and her good manners - to which Duo always snorted, because maybe Relena had good manners when she was with the people who knew her least, but get a few drinks in her and she was anything _but_ polite.

She had warned him that he would be the only guy, had begged him to come anyway, and he’d agreed to, especially after she told him that Quatre was going to be out of town that weekend. There was no way he would leave Relena alone with all of those Winner sisters.

There were silly party games, fancy pink desserts, pink sparkling cider, and the gifts. So many clothes, toys and jewelry that Duo doubted Relena would have to buy anything for her daughter for at least two years. And then Duo’s gift, Relena’s tears and her awkward, hugely-pregnant belly hug and the rest of the guests frowning slightly.

Duo didn’t know anything about babies, and he’d been confident that whatever he managed to get for Relena and her daughter would be useless, until he remembered one morning, early on in her pregnancy when Relena was still suffering from morning sickness. They had been out shopping, looking for a new suit for Duo for a meeting with potential investors in his club, and he had held back her hair and pressed a cool, wet cloth to the back of her neck while she emptied her stomach into the toilet at Morris & Sons.

Duo had made some flippant comment, something along the lines of getting pregnant himself if it was this much fun and Relena had glared and then sighed. Had had a moment of being overwhelmed, of admitting that she knew nothing about being a mother and was terrified and hoped that she could be the mother that she had never had, had begged Duo to help her, to make sure she didn’t abandon her child to nannies and promised that she and Quatre would be there for everything, every diaper change, ever stubbed toe, every tear and laugh.

So Duo called up one of their old New York fashion friends, a girl who had been an intern for Alexander McQueen and had once confessed to taking home arm fulls of extra material and had asked for a favor, had described a mei tai to her and asked her to make one out of that pink skull print fabric that they both knew Relena loved.

The Winner sisters and Relena’s social acquaintances weren’t terribly impressed with it, curled up their noses at the bright pink and the black skulls as Relena held it up and tried it on.

But Relena loved it. Relena promised to use it all of the time - exclaimed that it would be perfect for keeping her baby girl close, for sharing the world with her.

So it was with very mixed feelings that Duo picked up the mei tai as he unpacked the last box for Liv’s nursery.

The townhouse was already furnished - he knew that Relena and Quatre had split their time between the Winner estate and the townhouse, closer to Quatre’s work, during the week. But a few things had still been at the estate, including the mei tai, and Duo had volunteered himself to unpack those things, selfishly hoping to find something of Relena’s, and now that he had, he wished he hadn’t.

He clutched the smooth fabric tightly and fought back the sick feeling in his gut, the tightness in his throat. He wondered how often Relena had even used the mei tai - wondered if she _ever_ had.

“Did you still want to go grocery shopping with me?”

Duo turned at the voice, to see Trowa standing in the doorway to the nursery, Liv in his arms, cradled in the crook of his arms and asleep and content and completely unaware of the fact that her world had lost its brightest stars.

“Yeah,” Duo had to clear his voice. “Yeah, I do.”

He stood up and Trowa arched an eyebrow at the mei tai.

“What is that?”

“It’s a sling - a baby carrier.” Duo put it on and held out his arms for Liv.

Frowning, Trowa passed her over and Duo put her into the sling and demonstrated.

“It’s supposed to be comforting for the baby - to be close to their parent and…” Duo trailed off as Trowa nodded rapidly.

He wondered if Trowa was trying to picture Quatre or Relena wearing the thing, carrying around Liv. Wondered just how much it hurt Trowa to think about it.

“Anyway,” Duo said in a rush. “Do you want me to drive or do you want to just walk?”

Whole Foods was only a few blocks away, and they hadn’t planned to get too much by way of groceries - food for themselves, formula and toiletries for Liv.

“Walk,” Trowa said.

And so they walked, in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and Liv sleeping away, her little body warm and soft against Duo’s chest and he found himself holding her feet, gripping them lightly as they bounced and he took comfort in her, in this small piece of Relena he still had.

Once at Whole Foods they parted ways, Duo volunteering to get the baby supplies while Trowa got the “adult” food - and wine. Vodka had always been his drink of choice, his and Relena’s and when they had lived in New York they had drunk gallons, it seemed, each week. But then, back in Chicago, when Relena grew up she started to drink wine and Duo had followed her lead, had grudgingly gone with her to wine stores and wine tastings and, despite himself, grown to appreciate wine. Apparently Trowa was a wine drinker as well. And maybe Duo wasn’t going to be able to mourn Relena’s death by getting shit faced until he forgot she was dead every night, but he was damn sure he was going to need a glass of wine every now and then.

They had only just settled into the townhouse that afternoon, had only just collected Liv from Leia for the last time and it still felt surreal, still felt like some kind of bizarre dream that Duo would wake up from at any moment and find himself back in his own bed, in his loft apartment, curled up around a naked man and a text from Relena on his phone with the newest adorably genius thing Liv had done.

But as Duo looked at the list of baby products Leia had provided him with - the same list that Relena had given to Leia before leaving on that damned trip with Quatre - Duo knew there would be no waking up from this dream, this nightmare.

He sighed and kissed the top of Liv’s head, her soft, fine blond hair tickling his lips.

All he could do was keep going. And he had to do that, had to stop drowning in the past because Liv was the future and she needed him and Trowa.

Which meant that Duo had to figure out _which_ brand of organic baby formula Relena referred to as the ‘red kind called Earth something.’

Because as Duo stared at the row of baby formula he saw four different organic brands with in red cylinders that had Earth in the name.

Leia had given them the remaining formula that she had - saved in a glass jar because Relena apparently had a thing against the packaging the formula came in and insisted on storing it in an airtight glass jar instead and that was really the last thing Duo should be upset about, but in that moment, as he stared helplessly at the different brands of formula, he felt a measure of anger.

How the hell was _he_ supposed to know which fucking brand of baby formula she used?

“You look like you could use some help.”

Duo transferred his glare from the shelf to the green-aproned, pierced and tattooed Whole Foods employee who approached him.

The handsome, green-aproned, pierced and tattooed man whose friendly smile faltered slightly under Duo’s glare.

Duo sighed.

“Yeah,” he admitted and waved the list at the employee. “I have no clue what I’m doing.”

The man smirked slightly, looked between Duo and Liv.

“Most new dad’s feel that way.”

Duo snorted.

“Yeah, well, most new dad’s didn’t become a dad when their best friend died and left them custody of their baby.”

The man’s eyes went wide and Duo had to sigh again.

“Sorry. You -”

“No, I’m sorry. For your loss and - that’s a lot to handle.”

Duo nodded.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m the not the only one - it’s me and another guy - we’re taking care of her together.”

“Your partner?”

Duo snorted in amusement. His _partner_. He supposed Trowa was his partner - in raising Liv. But definitely not in the sense that this guy meant. Because despite that hand job at Quatre and Relena’s wedding that left Duo wanting a hell of a lot more from Trowa, he knew there was no chance at more ever happening. Not before this mess, and definitely not now.

“No. He’s not - not really my type,” Duo concluded, because Trowa wasn’t. Trowa was the book worm, the economics professor and he was successful and put together and academic and funny and intelligent and  everything that Duo was not and everything Duo knew he wasn’t likely to ever find in a guy.

The employee smiled a little wider and Duo arched an eyebrow.

“Well, let me help you figure this out,” the employee held out his hand for the list and Duo passed it over. “I’m Brad, by the way.”

“Duo.”

“Nice to meet you, Duo. And -?” Brad indicated Liv.

“This is Liv - Olivia.”

Brad nodded and looked over the list.

“Hm. I think this is supposed to be the Earth’s Best. It’s the best-seller.”

Duo accepted the cylinder Brad passed him.

“Want me to show you where the rest of this is? The soap and the wipes and things?”

“Please,” Duo barely refrained from begging and Brad smirked.

“How are you adjusting to being a dad?”

“Well, I’ve only had her for a few hours… but I don’t think I’ve done anything too wrong yet.”

Brad nodded and gave him another sympathetic look.

“I’m sure it’s going to be really hard for a while but it looks like you already really love her.”

Duo nodded.

“Impossible not to.”

Brad helped him get the baby soap and baby shampoo and the baby wipes, Seventh Generation diapers, rash cream and even baby safe laundry detergent, which wasn’t on the list but Duo felt confident Relena probably used.

“Look, ah,” Brad handed back to the list, “I’m sure your life is crazy right now but if you wanted to grab a drink sometime or -”

“Duo.”

Brad and Duo both turned at the sound of Trowa’s voice. Trowa glared at them, and even if he hadn’t said Duo’s name in a low, angry tone that made Duo’s shoulders tense Duo would sure as hell know from that expression that Trowa was _not_ happy.

“Trowa,” Duo said in the same tone of voice.

Trowa arched an eyebrow at the tone, glanced over at Brad and then back at Duo.

Duo rolled his eyes and turned back to Brad.

“Thanks for the help with everything,” he said and gave him an apologetic shrug. “I’ll see you around.”

Brad nodded and backed away when Trowa moved to walk past him and Duo followed him, shook his head at Trowa’s attitude and wasn’t surprised when the walk back to the townhouse was tense and silent.

He was actually grateful when Liv woke up as they were putting away the groceries. Grateful for her fussy cries and the excuse to leave Trowa to finish unpacking while he took her to the nursery and changed her diaper, practically fleeing from the kitchen and Trowa’s green glare and tense shoulders.

“Well, this has been a very exciting day,” he spoke to Liv, keeping his voice soothing, unconsciously using the same voice he used to use for Relena when she was hungover.

Liv stopped crying and stared at him as he wiped her clean.

“And we’re probably going to have a very, very exciting rest of the day spent avoiding Mr. Stick Up His Ass,” he continued.

Because of all the things Duo now had to contend with, that look of disappointment and judgement on Trowa’s face when he heard Brad ask him out was _not_ something he wanted to deal with.

 

 


End file.
